Rigby and Eileen - The First Date
by wregular
Summary: Be yourself, or be someone else? Be honest, or be cool? Be eager, or be distant? Eileen and Rigby finally have their first real date together, but can the new couple really connect, or will it be one big failure to communicate?
1. Chapter 1 - Take a Seat

**NOTE**: This is just the first chapter – the date is not over! More will follow within the week.

_... fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty._

Eileen checked her cellphone's clock again. Another minute had elapsed: Rigby was now fourteen minutes late. She'd rationed herself to checking the time no more than every sixty seconds in an attempt not to get obsessed. Just how self-defeating this was belatedly occurred to her, so she placed her phone on the table in front of her, face down, as condensation from her glass of ice water formed a tiny puddle.

Her own face would hit the table soon if Rigby didn't show. She'd had her eye on him long enough, so she knew he was... well, flaky's not the word. Curiously motivated – that was it. But to be late for a first date? Why would he agree to it if he wasn't going to show up on time? Was it just a stupid mistake to think he'd come at all?

Things had moved pretty fast since he'd called her five days prior. Rigby had phoned her at work, completely out of the blue, asking, almost demanding, that they sit down together and have a deep and meaningful conversation. It was pretty much Eileen's ideal scenario, albeit with Rigby's pectoral muscles less defined than in her daydreams. And they did sit, and did talk, and talk well, right until the coffee shop closed. She was still proud of herself for seizing the initiative and asking, almost demanding, that they do it again next week, this time at a restaurant where they could stay and talk later into the night. Rigby seemed enthusiastic at the time, but since then he hadn't called, or even stopped by the coffee shop, instead dispatching Mordecai for his caffeine and sugar fix. For what Eileen took to be their first real date, the auspices weren't good.

After a brief but intense moment's deliberation, Eileen decided that if Rigby wasn't here by the twentieth minute, she'd send him a text. If that didn't work, she'd walk home alone.

_... twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three..._

Rigby stopped pacing, puffed out his cheeks, and exhaled firmly. Just another thirty seconds or so until he was officially fashionably late. The internet had told him not to be too eager, not to give too much away. That part wasn't hard. Not getting all dressed up? Not showing up on time? The guys online really knew how to speak his language.

But his late-night research had unearthed some other advice. "Be yourself," the page said. "Women appreciate honestly." Again, this wasn't a problem. Rigby wasn't always the most self-aware, but he knew himself well enough to recognize that keeping quiet wasn't exactly his game.

That came with a cost, though. Sooner or later he knew he was going to say the wrong thing – or, perhaps worse, be totally unable to find the right thing. He fancied his mind like a claw game, with random thoughts strewn below the grabber – some good, some bad, some wildly inappropriate. Whether or not he was able to scoop up a winner was only partially in his control. Sometimes that damn claw just wouldn't grab. Another advantage to this fashionably late deal, he thought: delaying the inevitable screw-up.

_... fifty-nine, sixty._

It was time to go inside.

With a shaky thumb hovering over the Send button, Eileen's eyes darted to the door the split-second she heard it open. Finally, there he was. Suddenly self-conscious in her pink dress and pearl necklace, she called out to the ever-casual Rigby.

"Over here!", she said, with the conviction of a woman overboard calling for a lifeboat. She cringed inwardly at the desperation in her voice.

Rigby didn't pick up on it. He was far too concerned with affecting the ubiquitous but oh-so nebulous concept of cool. Why was walking cool so hard? What _was_ walking cool? He felt like he had leg braces on. This wasn't good. At length he made his way to the booth and sat down opposite Eileen.

"Hi, Rigby." It took all her strength to bring her voice back to normal levels.

"Sorry I'm late." He was half-slurring. "I was... y'know. Busy doing stuff." He caught a flicker of sadness in Eileen's expression, and was proud of himself for noticing. Time to change direction. "I mean- I was at work. Benson. He kept me late." What was he saying? This wasn't in the script. "He's a real jerk. This restaurant's nice. How are you doing?" At least the slurring had stopped, but now he felt like someone had pushed his fast-forward button. "Man, where's the waiter? I want some bread. But I saw something about tainted butter on TV yesterday. So just bread. No butter." Finally, someone found the pause button instead. Rigby's eyes were wide and glazed, waiting for someone to press play, preferably after changing the tape to something sane.

This made Eileen feel much better. She allowed herself a moment of optimism: the five days of silence were just down to nerves. Rigby had been building up to this just like her. She still wasn't sure what to make of his timekeeping – she thought she knew him well enough to know that nothing short of the potential end of the world could keep him at work after sundown – but suddenly she felt that they were near enough on level terms.

"Rigby, I'm fine, and thank you for asking. And thanks for letting me know about the tainted butter. That's an important issue in our modern society. I've ordered you a glass of water already." She smiled gently and pushed the glass in his direction. It was the least she could do, she thought, to try to soothe his nerves, even if he had kept her waiting.

Rigby blinked and fell back into life. She'd liked the butter thing? She's bought the Benson thing? Maybe he _was_ cool after all. Time to turn on the charm.

"Thanks," he mumbled, and buried his face in the laminated menu. "What's good here?"

Eileen blinked. Had she offended him? The butter thing – did he think she was making fun of him? She sort of was, but she didn't mean it like that. What was happening? She picked up her own menu and read the words so hard she thought she might burn through the page.


	2. Chapter 2 - Split Decision

Eileen's self-imposed silence only lasted a few seconds. It was too awkward for her to leave a question unanswered, even if it was just what was worth ordering at the restaurant. Rigby, however, sensed no discomfort at all. It was hard to be anything but content when trying to pick between cheese fries and jalapeno poppers. Why not both? The possibilities for fat and carbs were endless. Suddenly he was starving.

"I don't know what's good here, Rigby. I've never been here before. I've never done this before," Eileen said quietly, still staring at the menu.

Rigby laid his menu down. "What, you've never eaten at a restaurant before? Even I've done that and I'm the poorest guy I know. I mean, Benson paid for it, but that still counts."

The voice from behind the menu shrunk further. "No, I mean I've never been to a restaurant with a guy before. So I don't really know what I'm doing."

Eileen curled her toes with embarrassment. Why say all that? Why let him know you're vulnerable? Had she given too much away?

If she had, Rigby hadn't caught on. He pointed to his menu. "Well, that means you've never shared cheese fries with Rigby before, so what are we waiting for? Hmm, hmm!"

Eileen tilted her menu down and peered over the top. Rigby's eyes were open and his eyebrows - so expressive - were riding high. She placed her menu down and looked back at him from behind her glasses.

"You know, Rigby, you can be a real charmer sometimes. I always said so."

Rigby chuckled, put his elbow on the table, and smiled, "Whatever. I'm just in it for the cheese fries."

Suddenly it felt like a date again.

Rigby had the cheese fries appetizer for an entree, trying to make what little cash he had last the evening. Eileen, meanwhile, made it clear that they'd each pay for their own stuff, so she enjoyed a salmon fettucine dish with some of her coffee shop tips, garnished with a couple of cheese fries that Rigby insistently placed on the side.

As they ate they said little, just glad of each others' company. Conversation was further stunted by Rigby's obsession with making sure the ranch dressing lasted as long as the fries - a delicate operation - but Eileen didn't mind at all. She just watched his eyebrows go up and down as he ate.

Eileen finished her meal and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "So, Rigby - do you know what movies are playing tonight? I hadn't thought about what we could see yet."

Without looking up, he replied. "I wanna see Strong Johns. They made a movie based on Strong Johns. Finally! And it's got the guys from the commercial in it!" He looked up, with an earnestness in his eyes Eileen hadn't seen all night. "Can you believe it only got a limited theatrical release? Those Hollywood morons. I could do that job. Kinda." He went back to measuring his fry dip.

This was the Rigby that Eileen knew best: self-absorbed, immature, obsessed with crazy stuff... yet adorable nonetheless. But even allowing for that, she felt she had to say something.

"I was kinda hoping we could pick out a movie together, Rigby. You know... something for both of us," she ventured.

Rigby's internet training hadn't really prepared him for this. Or, more accurately, it had - just in two different directions. Was he supposed to be a gentleman and acquiesce to her every whim? Or was he supposed to be a confident leader and take charge of the situation?

Carefully dripping ranch onto a forkful of fries, he gave it a moment's thought. Then he spoke.

"Hey, you picked the restaurant, why can't I pick the movie? It's Strong Johns, Eileen! _Strooooong Jooooohns!_"

Eileen glanced sideways, downwards, and finally back to eye contact with Rigby. "OK, let's see Strong Johns. Maybe it'll be fun." She smiled weakly.

With each dart of Eileen's eyes it occurred all the more to Rigby that this was, well, lame. He was talking to Eileen like she was Mordecai. Whining about a dumb movie. What next - rock, paper, scissors? He curled his toes with discomfort, hoping the fire alarm would go off, the restaurant would explode - anything to stop the heat rushing to his cheeks.

"I mean... we don't have to, Eileen. It's just... y'know. Strong Johns, and... why don't you pick a movie?" He was blushing, and jabbing aimlessly at the few fries that remained.

'Remember the butter joke,' Eileen thought to herself. She felt bad for Rigby and decided to put him out of his misery. "Rigby, it's fine," she smiled. "I've seen you and Mordecai play that game. Those big, strong Johns looked so muscular. Maybe I'll love this movie after all! Come on - let's pay the check."

Rigby grinned weakly. All his hard work getting ready for dinner, and he'd only managed to convince Eileen that he was a dumb video game nerd more suited to sitting on the couch with his slacker friend. The fire alarm, meanwhile, stubbornly refused to go off.


	3. Chapter 3 - Pre-Movie Short

Eileen was glad of the sound of the traffic. It meant that Rigby's silence was significantly less awkward than it might have been. The movie, too, would offer them both a chance to regroup.

The restaurant hadn't been a disaster, she thought, but Rigby's trudge seemed to tell another story from his perspective. If he'd had a collar on, it would have been turned up. Eyes down, one foot in front of the other, he kept pace but otherwise seemed to be somewhere else.

Eileen inhaled deeply, with just the slightest quaver in her breath, and looked around. The city wasn't unattractive, the sidewalks and storefronts hit by the defiant rays of an autumn sunset. Leaves blew around their feet, cars honked, life just sort of happened. It wasn't much, but it was her home.

She caught a reflection in a store window and gave herself a little nod of acknowledgement, her pearl necklace catching the last of the sun. She didn't have hang-ups about her appearance - she'd made her peace with not being tall, beautiful and mysterious - but all the same it had its disadvantages. Looking as she did, she was always taken for the quiet, bookish sort. In fact Eileen had a lot to say for herself.

Just not right now.

-

Rigby, for his part, was doing his best to literally hide his blushes. He was a third foot away from kicking himself. After all his hard work, all his research, to turn himself into someone who a girl – or even Eileen – would want to spend time with, he'd blown it with his immaturity. Silently he cursed his way down the street.

He didn't even really want to see the movie anymore, but at this point just going with the flow seemed easier than trying to make an excuse to bail. Besides, if he headed back home – the only realistic option – he knew he'd find Mordecai sitting on the couch, ready to ask in knowing terms why he was home so early and exactly at what point he'd struck out.

The worst part was he felt he knew he was still in the process of disappointing her. Each passing second of silence was compounding his failure. Eileen hadn't asked him out for him to skulk along the street like a sullen teenager forced to do a hated chore. But the way he was feeling, anything to come out of his mouth would be the wrong thing.

So he let nothing out.

-

As the traffic quietened down and the movie theater came in sight, Eileen felt obliged to speak up. She'd asked Rigby here, after all, and without the cars to mask their silence the fact that he wasn't happy was growing all the more obvious.

"Rigby..." she began.

"Yep." It wasn't a question. It wasn't said in the search for a response.

"What?" She'd expected Rigby to be less than communicative, but she hadn't expected it to be quite this bad.

"Well... yeah. I screwed up. This is going horrible. So if Margaret's sick or you have an early start tomorrow or whatever, that's fine. You can go." He said all this without looking up or even pausing. Clearly it had been on his mind for some time.

Eileen took a quick step in front of him, stopped, and grabbed him by the shoulders. She hadn't expected that, either. Yet here she was. She peered over her glasses and - as much as her normal vision would allow - looked into his eyes.

"Rigby. If I'd wanted to leave, I would have made my excuses at the restaurant. But I don't want to leave, and I don't think you do, either," Eileen said with a small smile.

Rigby didn't say anything for a second. Eileen raised her eyes back to her glasses. She saw that his eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, I... Rigby, what's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong, dammit!" Eileen took her hands off his shoulders. Rigby kept talking. "The only girl who ever liked me takes me out on a date to a restaurant with napkins and everything and I just start being an idiot and talking about stupid movies when I should be listening and being cool." Rigby's tears dried with the heat of his self-directed anger and his voice quickly levelled out. "I'm sorry, but this is what happens. I can't think of the right thing to say, then everything just kind of busts out all at once. And seriously. We don't have to see this stupid movie."

Now it was Eileen's turn to fight away a couple of tears. "Rigby... the last thing I want to do is make you feel bad about yourself. I asked you out because I want to spend time with you. And I thought you wanted to spend time with me, too. Remember the talk we had, the night you called me after therapy? You weren't like this then. You just need to... I don't know... Rigby, I hate to see you beat yourself up when, let's face it, we both kinda suck."

Rigby managed a smile at this. "Yeah... I'm sorry. Let's keep walking." Rigby offered his hand. Eileen gratefully accepted, and on they walked.

Eileen had seen enough movies to know that, yes, as first dates go, this one had been fast approaching disaster territory. But she'd also known Rigby long enough to know that his little meltdowns were bound to happen now and again. He was 23 but still learning how to be himself, she thought. And she thought she knew how to help him.

That was of comfort to her as she took Rigby's hand and let him onwards to the theater. But when it came to be her turn, she thought, would _that_ be too much for Rigby to handle? She tried not to think about it as the marquee came into clear view.


	4. Chapter 4 - Sweet Concessions

Rigby had an ace up his sleeve - he offered to pay for the movie and snacks for both himself and Eileen.

She hadn't expected this from Rigby, and Eileen was the sort who didn't expect guys to hold open every door and pay every check. The world had moved past that, she thought. Nonetheless, it was with genuine appreciation that she let Rigby lean up to the box office and buy the two movie tickets.

"I'll get us some popcorn, too," he said, "and I won't even cut a hole in the bottom of the box! Heh heh heh!"

Eileen decided to have some fun with this. "Hole in the box?", she asked in perfect innocence, maintaining eye contact behind her glasses. "Why would you do that? What do you mean, Rigby?"

Rigby's eyebrows arched skyward. "I... uh... wait... I didn't... popcorn... words... aw... uh..."

Eileen held his stare for a good two seconds after he trailed off and then burst into laughter.

"Oh man, Rigby, your face. Your eyebrows! You looked so scared! I'm sorry, dude, that was just too good to pass up," she giggled.

"What... wait, what?" Rigby was taking a while to catch up.

"Of course I know the hole-in-the-popcorn-box thing. You're not the only one who watches TV," she smiled.

"Oh, thank god," Rigby exhaled. "I thought I'd messed up again. You shouldn't scare me like that! I thought I'd messed up!"

"Rigby, maybe the best way to deal with our issues is to confront them, and then laugh at them. Anyway, yeah, get the popcorn. I'll go grab us two seats together while there are still some left. It's gonna be _way_ crowded in there for Strong Johns!"

Grinning at her own deviousness, she left a worried-looking Rigby standing in line for concessions.

The little raccoon was glad Eileen was comfortable enough to crack jokes, but nonetheless stood tense. He hadn't noticed she was kidding. Why couldn't he read women? Why couldn't he read _anyone?_

Maybe playing Eileen at her own game would help.

Eileen was wholly unsurprised to see the theater almost empty. Strong Johns wasn't exactly tearing up the box office, with just a few kids in the front row and the odd scattered nerd elsewhere. She took a seat up in the very back row right in the corner to wait for her man.

At length he appeared, carrying not just an epic-sized box of popcorn but two sodas.

"I thought you might get thirsty," he said, "so I brought some sodas."

"Oh, awesome! You didn't have to buy me this, you know," said Eileen.

"I didn't," replied Rigby. "I just took these from some kid out in the lobby. You should have seen his face!"

Eileen's eyes grew wide behind her glasses, and then narrowed into a frown. "Rigby! How could you? I thought you were a good guy! Go and take these back right now."

Rigby held her gaze for a few seconds then burst out laughing, earning himself a few angry shh'es from those seated nearby enjoying the trailers.

"Now who's the gullible one," he chuckled, two-fisting the sodas into the cup holders. "Yeah! Rigby's back in the game! In yo' _face_, kinda-girlfriend!"

Before she knew it, Eileen was laughing along with him, not caring in the slightest that they were interruptin the previews.

Strong Johns sucked. They sat and watched the whole thing, but traded nudges and whispered remarks more than they watched the movie. Even Rigby failed to be impressed - something he wasn't shy about sharing as they walked out of the theater into the cold city.

"Man! Why get the real Strong Johns from the commercial in then give them a dumbass script like that? I could have written better and I can't even spell," he yelled, to the predictable rage of the die-hard fans who were tweeting positive reviews as they walked.

Eileen rolled her eyes, "You sure can pick 'em, Rigby. Maybe next time we can see something we both like."

"Hey, I said I was sorry. I said we didn't have to see it. Anyway, now you have something to blog about."

"And how did you know I had a blog, Rigby?"

"I don't know. Seems like something you'd do. Girls with glasses keep blogs, don't they?"

They looked each other and smiled. Rigby was the first to break out of the moment.

"Man... Eileen, a couple of hours ago I was about ready to throw myself into traffic. But I'm having a really good time."

Eileen's heart fluttered. "I'm so glad, Rigby. For a first date, this is going pretty well after all."

Rigby narrowed his eyes suggestively. "Hey... you know what would make this even better?"

The heart flutter became a full-blown, cartoonish pounding now. Was this it? Was Rigby finally going to kiss her? "... what, Rigby?", she said.

"More cheese fries!"

Eileen's heart resumed normal service. She was so sad that Rigby had misread the situation yet again, but tried to let him down gently. She smiled stoically, looked down at the sidewalk, and said, "Oh. I don't know, I'm kind of full from the popcorn, and it's getting late, and I-"

"Fooled you again, Eileen." He smiled and came closer. Eileen now dared to dream about what was coming next.

And it came. They leapt into each other, all the frustrations, near-misses and disappointments of the evening - of their _lives_- exploding into a mutual kiss. From him, a light musk, the hint of the sharpest canines at the front of that hot mouth, and the earnest desire of a kid who knows exactly what he wants. From her, a push back just as strong - Eileen knew what she wanted, too. She wanted Rigby. To know that he wanted her too - there were no lies from that mouth, not with a kiss that hard - there was no holding back. She held onto him as if for dear life, and gave just as good as she got. With a free hand she even took off her glasses for him.

Finally Eileen took a step back and looked into Rigby's eyes. She but her glasses back on to see his eyebrows once again on top of the world.

"Hey, Rigby. We might not be too good at dating. But I think we're really, _really_good at making out," she said.

"Totally. Let's do it again sometime."

"How about right now?"

"You read my mind."

And so they walked back to the park house, where Rigby prayed to all gods and none that Mordecai had gone the hell to bed already so that he and Eileen could have the living room for a while.


	5. Chapter 5 - End Credits

Rigby and Eileen were holding hands and giggling like kids as they mounted the stairs to the park house. The raccoon gestured to hush as he reached for the doorknob.

"Shh, keep it down. Hopefully Pops will be asleep and Mordecai will be upstairs," he whispered.

No such luck. The familiar beeps and chiptunes of his beloved video games filled the room as he opened the door. Mordecai was up against The Hammer. Without turning around, the blue jay spoke.

"Hey, Rig Newton, you're back. Struck out already? How'd you mess it up this time? You need some alone time with your right hand? Or did you at least get that taken care of? Ha ha..."

"Dude, enough."

"I'm just kidding, Rigby. But you _did_screw it up, right? Dude, just tell me..." Mordecai turned around. When he saw Eileen smiling at him, he just about fell backwards off the couch.

"Oh... hey, Eileen. I'm... I'm just going to go... to my room."

"Good idea, Mordecai. See you later."

Too embarrassed to respond, Mordecai half-ran up the stairs, his slender feet scraping and tapping on the floorboards until his door slammed.

"Sorry about that," Rigby said, rolling his eyes. "You know how he can be."

Eileen was impressed. Rigby seemed like the mature one for a change, with Mordecai looking like the half-nerd, half-bro who hadn't quite grown up.

"It's fine, Rigby. He's just jealous of you."

Rigby rolled his eyes. "Mordecai? Jealous? We've been over this. He's got everything going for him. He's been to art school. He's tall and good-looking. Don't tell him I said that. He's the smart one. What do I have that he doesn't? Nothin' good."

At length Rigby saw the hurt in Eileen's eyes as she peered downwards towards her new shoes. "I... I mean, no. Dammit. Eileen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean you weren't good. I'm just..."

A flicker of anger appeared behind her glasses as she looked back up to make eye contact. "Just what, Rigby? I thought we were getting somewhere. And... I thought you liked me. But it always comes back to Mordecai, doesn't it? Is that what all this is about?"

"No! It's..."

"Is it some kind of race, me and you against him and Margaret?"

"No! It's not like that! Look, I'm just not used to... having you yet. It's not sunk in that we're boyfriend and girlfriend."

"That's what we are now?"

"Well, aren't we?"

"I guess we are."

"We are! And look... really, just give me a chance. I'm not the perfect guy and you knew that when you got into this."

"I don't want perfection, Rigby. I just want this to work. Anyway... this is getting kinda heavy for a first date."

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry. I kinda turned you into my therapist already. Let's have some fun instead. That's what I do best."

"I thought slacking off was what you did best."

"And that's the best kind of fun! Anyway, look - Mordecai left his game on. Let's finish it for him."

They clambered onto the couch and set about braining The Hammer with all manner of furniture. Rigby was hoping for once to be the more capable of the heroic duo on screen, but found Eileen to be truly deserving of the Player 1 title. She quickly racked up more points than Rigby but within half an hour their lives were all gone.

"Well," said Rigby, "Mordecai will be pissed, but who cares, right? We had a good time."

"Totally. But that's not what we came here to do, is it?"

"Isn't i- oh, yeah! Make-out time!"

"Just so you know, Rigby: make-out time becomes 90% less romantic when you actually call it make-out time, and say it out loud."

"I can live with that. Now get over here."

This time they took it slower, Rigby nuzzling into Eileen's ear and nibbling oh-so gently with those canines. She took off her glasses, pulled away for a second, then launched back in with a kiss. And so the minutes passed without words. They spoke not at all, but communicated so well with their breaths, their heartbeats, and the occasional giggle, lit only by the Game Over screen on the TV.

Soon enough the fun was over for them, too.

"We both have work tomorrow," said Eileen.

"Mmhmm," said Rigby, right next to her ear.

"So I need to get going."

"Mmhmm... just a little longer," he breathed.

Eileen sat up and put her glasses back on. She smiled at Rigby. "Now that we're going out we can take our time. Let's do this again, really soon."

"Fiiine!" Rigby said in mock exasperation, and smiled back. "You're right. Do you want me to walk you home?"

"It's sweet that you'd offer but I can make it from here. I'll see you soon, Rigby! Call me!" And with that she was gone.

No sooner was she through the door than she was frantically texting Margaret:

"Finally. Hooked up with Rigby. Best night of my life. So romantic. You were so wrong about him. Tell you more tomorrow. xx"

On the other side of the door, Rigby had long since sprinted upstairs. He burst into his bedroom and flicked on the light.

"Yeah! In yo' FACE, Mordecai!" He was bouncing up and down on his bed now as the blue jay covered his eyes.

"Huh? What? Morning? Oh. Dude, shut up, I'm sleeping. Or trying to."

"Sleeping off your _shame_? What was that you said before you came stumbling and mumbling up here? I struck out? Guess what, loser: Eileen and I are boyfriend and girlfriend now. We _totally_made out while you were up here alone! Oh, and we almost killed the Hammer."

"You took over my game? Augh! I was going to finish it before breakfast tomorrow!"

"Don't change the subject. You didn't think I could do it. You thought I was a loser. Who's the loser _now_, Mordecry?"

"Well... me, I guess?"

"Hell yeah it's you! Wait... no, dude, you're not a loser. I'm just kidding around."

"No dude, you're right. Eileen liked you, and you liked her, and you're making it work. I'm really happy for you. She looked so cute when you came in tonight. And I'm still getting nowhere with Margaret. It's given me a lot to think about."

"Aw, come on man. Don't get heavy on me at 11 o'clock. Let's get some sleep and we can talk about it tomorrow."

"I guess. Goodnight, dude."

"Night, man."

Rigby could still taste Eileen on his lips as he settled into a deeper and much more satisfying sleep than usual. Mordecai, meanwhile, struggled to keep his eyes closed as he listened jealously to his friend's peaceful slumber.


End file.
